


Dead Or Alive

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Mark of Cain, NSFW, NSFW text, Oneshot, Reader Insert, Rough Sex, Sex, Smut, Swearing, Violence, demon, demon!reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 15:33:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5876284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Smut inspired by Bon Jovi</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dead Or Alive

When Crowley had sent you to fetch the wayward Winchester, you weren't sure what you'd been expecting. This wasn't your usual gig; you were one of hell's highest bounty hunters, usually your skills were reserved for dangerous jobs that required a certain amount of cunning. Bringing in one human wasn't something you were concerned about. But when the King gave you an order, you followed. You were nothing if not loyal.

Dean Winchester had been off the rails with the Mark of Cain. Crowley wanted him secured before he did any more damage. No one knew where he was, but that wasn't a problem for your abilities. You could find the smallest needle in the biggest haystack.

It took you three days.

He was in a bar, north-west of Chicago, and it was snowing heavily outside. You could sense the Mark on him, and you slipped through the shadows, keeping your eyes on his back. You'd heard the stories about his jaunt with the King, and how his brother had “cured” him. Obviously it hadn't totally taken; you could feel the tendrils of darkness curling off of him like smoke. Your eyes flashed black, drawing a drunken mumble from a guy to your left. You glared at him, and he promptly retreated.

The venue was full of idiots, and noise, and you wondered why Dean had come here, to a hub of human interaction, when he was so clearly close to losing all control. The amount of damage he could cause here would be significant. Not that you gave any fucks whatsoever.

Flexing the shoulders of your vessel, you smiled, lingering in the darkness to watch some more. There was no one but you inhabiting this body – you'd had it for centuries. There was a benefit to keeping the same face.

Dean was nursing a full tumbler of whiskey, not paying much attention to anything around him; outwardly. But his jaw was clenching, and you knew he was probably taking everything in. Just like a true warrior. You couldn't deny you had respect for this hunter, despite the things he'd done to your kind. Not that you actually cared about any of them. Part and parcel of being a demon was not giving a single shit about anyone else.

Continuing to watch him, you slipped a little closer, admiring the curve of his jaw and the green of his eyes. He was definitely one of the most attractive specimens of human you'd ever seen. His tongue darted out to wet his lips and it made the woman still left in you quiver. A surging need you'd ignored for a long time rose in your belly, and you smirked as you made a decision.

Crowley had sent you to fetch the hunter; he'd never said you couldn't play with him first.

The stool next to Dean was occupied, and you slid into it, ignoring him as you signalled the bartender for a drink. He placed a beer in front of you, his eyes sliding to the man next to you, obviously noticing the aura of “don't talk to me” surrounding him. You let your eyes run over him very briefly, before swigging at your drink.

'Dean Winchester.' You breathed, holding your bottle by the neck, angling yourself so your chest was in full view; with a clear display of cleavage. 'I'd say fancy running into you here, but I was looking for you anyway.'

He looked up, his attention snagged, and his eyes narrowed at you. 'Can I help you?' His tone indicated that he wanted to do anything but, and your eyes flickered to where you knew the Mark lay on his skin.

'No, but I might be able to help you.' You let your eyes flash black,and his entire body tensed. 'Don't worry. Not here to pick a fight. More like...looking for a truce.'

His gaze covered you from head to toe, before he looked away. 'I'm not the brother who deals with demons, sweetheart.'

'Not what I heard. I heard that more recently you _were_ a demon.' You stretched your neck out, exhaling in satisfaction as the bones cracked under the strain. 'I was sent to fetch you back for something. And the orders were preferably alive, but they're not entirely bothered.'

'They sent a _demon_ after me?' Dean scoffed. He turned, glaring. 'They really think that's gonna work?'

'Not just a lower level henchdemon, sweetie.' You swallowed down a mouthful of dreadful beer, grimacing a little at the taste. 'I'm not the sort of demon you'd usually come across.'

'Same as all the other roaches.' He spat, reaching into his jacket to pull out a couple of bills. 'Despite the pretty packaging.'

There was your hook. At least you knew he found you attractive. 'Not a roach. I've got a specific set of skills.'

'Right.' Dean stood up, pulling his jacket tighter around his muscled chest and you licked your lips in anticipation of what was under the hood. 'Sorry, sweetheart, but I'm not going anywhere with you.'

'Hence the truce.' You followed suit, standing and running a finger down his chest. 'Here's my offer. You and me? We could have a _real_ good time.'

'You're a meatsuit.' He stated, but you could see the indecision in his eyes.

'I'm Gore-friendly.' You quipped. 'This body has been mine for a long ass time, baby. Only me in here.' You stood back, giving him a bit of space. 'So, say I forget that I've seen you, and we make this whole experience more than memorable.'

'Is this a pick up?' He asked, not sounding entirely disgusted by the idea, his eyes dropping to your cleavage again.

'Would you object? If the end result was me disappearing and not telling the King Of Hell exactly where you are? I don't know what he's planning on doing with that information but...'

Dean grimaced. 'He's planning on telling my brother. Because of -' His hand automatically went to his right arm, resting over the exact spot where Cain's Mark burned into his skin.

'The Mark. Hmmm, yeah, heard all about that. You're quite famous in some circles, you know.' You folded your arms over your chest, watching him closely. 'So...what about this deal?'

He smirked. 'Gonna need a kiss to seal it?'

Bingo. 'I'm not a crossroads demon, sweetheart.' You leant in close. 'Gonna take a bit more than a kiss.'

'Wasn't talking about kissing your mouth.' His words were low and practically growled in your direction, and you shivered, arousal flushing your cheeks red. 'Come on.' His hand grabbed yours, and you found yourself being dragged from the bar. Obviously Dean wasn't beyond dealing with a demon.

His motel was across the road, and when he pulled you in, you saw the state of the place. The television was smashed, and the bathroom mirror had a crack through it, concentrated in the middle where Dean's fist had obviously collided. The bed was unmade, sheets haphazardly shoved to one side, and there was an empty whiskey bottle on the bedside table.

'Bit of a rough night.' He explained, slamming the door shut, before turning to you. 'Tonight might be rougher.' He shoved you backwards and you smiled wickedly, giving him a challenging look. 'If you're up for it.'

'Do your worst, Winchester.'

With that, Dean was on you, his lips smashing into yours as his hands practically ripped at your clothes. His jacket hit the floor, followed by yours, shirts and t-shirts piling up around your ankles. His teeth scraped against your lips, rough enough to draw a little blood and you groaned into his mouth, dragging your nails down his now-bare chest, leaving red marks on his skin. He pulled back, rumbling in his throat as he stared at you, his eyes dark with arousal, his fingers digging into your hips.

You looked down, hooking your fingers into the top of his jeans, running your thumb over the outline of his considerable bulge, making him moan. 'Hmm. Big boy.' You muttered, leaning forward to nip at his collarbone. 'Think it'll fit?'

'I'll make it.' He grunted, pushing you back towards the bed. You stumbled, letting go off him before regaining your footing, just as his hands pulled at the thin black trousers you were wearing. Another shove had you landing on the bed, yelping in surprise as he pulled your shoes off, tossing them across the room. One hit the already smashed television, causing glass to sprinkle on the floor. Both of you ignored it – Dean was too busy ripping your trousers down your legs to even care. They made it off intact, but your panties were not so lucky – they floated to the floor in two separate pieces, hitting the ground just as Dean licked along your soaked slit, making you scream and arch off of the bed. You didn't get very far with the strong hands wrapped around your thighs.

Dean's tongue was as silver as they said, and you found yourself tumbling straight into pleasure at the first thrust of his mouth against your cunt. A constant whimper echoed from your throat as he licked and nipped at you, obscene noises reverberating around the room as he ate you out. He wasn't lying about kissing you elsewhere – openly frenching your pussy wasn't something you'd normally request of a guy, but Dean Winchester clearly had an oral fixation.

His tongue abandoned your hole, coming up to circle your clit, sucking it into his mouth roughly, enough to cause an edge of pain, but also enough to send you careening into an orgasm, the only thing preventing your thighs from crushing his head was the grip of his hands on them. His fingertips left marks where he held you tightly, but you just begged for more.

When you'd finished coming for him, he reared up, your juices glistening on his chin, one hand leaving your thigh as he shoved two fingers inside you, grinning as you cried out. He curled them briefly, before pushing a third in, rotating his wrist to induce sensations in your body that you'd rarely felt before.

'You like that, darlin'? Or is it too rough for you?' His mocking tone made you a little angry, but you still wanted to play. Using your bare foot, you kicked him in the shoulder, pushing him off, his fingers leaving you as suddenly as they'd penetrated you, and he yelled out in surprise as he landed on the floor.

'Not enough.' You ground out, knowing he was laying on glass. He didn't seem to care, grinning up at you as you pulled at his pants, yanking his hips off the ground as you removed his belt. 'Come on, Dean. I'm not a little girl. I can take whatever you have to give.'

'You're gonna regret saying that.' He snarled as his pants ended up halfway down his thighs. His cock stood hard and proud, the end swollen and red, glistening with precum as he kept his green eyes on you.

You sniffed the air, before wrapping one hand around him, pumping a couple of times. 'I can smell blood. Do you even feel anything any more?'

'How about you test that theory and suck my dick?' He barked at you and you shrugged, bending down to take him as far as you could into his mouth. 'Fuuuuck yes.' Dean threw his head back, and you wondered if he was getting off on the pain of the glass digging into his flesh whilst you sucked his cock. You dug your nails into his hips, drawing back off of him, ignoring the slight thrust of his hips up into you. Holding his tip between your teeth, you slowly sank back down, dragging your blunt teeth over his sensitive length, and he groaned as you did it, the low rumble vibrating through his body.

His cock was almost choking you, despite your lesser need to breathe, you couldn't take any more in, and he looked down at you, biting his bottom lip between his teeth as he grabbed your hair with one hand, fisting it, and slamming the entire length of his cock into your mouth. It hit your throat, your gag reflex bypassed as he started to fuck up into your mouth.

'Any idea how fucking hot that looks? Seeing you choking on my dick, baby? You're practically suffocating there, huh?' You moaned, pulling one hand away from him to rub yourself, feeling your climax build as Dean continued to slam himself into your mouth. 'Want me to come in your mouth? Swallow down what I've got to give?' You wanted to nod, but you were so close, feeling his hardness hitting the back of your throat with every stroke, timing it just right with your fingers jammed inside your own cunt. 'You getting off on this too?' Dean was panting, and you thought he might come, but instead, he threw you off, getting onto his knees. His large hands grabbed your lower half, pulling you to him. You felt the glass cutting into your legs as he dragged you across the floor, providing a delicious stinging sensation. It only added to the tingling covering your entire body.

'Dean...' You cried out, as his hand came down on your ass, leaving a red hand-print on your skin, and he rubbed his cock against you, letting you feel the length of him against your soaked slit. 'Please -'

'Shut up.' He ordered through gritted teeth, before teasing your hole with his tip. You moaned, pushing back onto him, earning yourself another slap on the ass. You pushed up onto your hands, just as he slammed into you in one stroke.

Fuck, he was huge. He bottomed out quickly, but kept pushing, determined to fill you to the brim. When his hips were flush against your ass, he leant forward, grabbing your hair again to pull you backwards. Your hands were still on the floor, but you had to stretch, causing a nice burn in your bicep muscles.

'Enjoy this, sweetheart. Deal's a deal.' His voice was close to your ear, and you nodded under the restraint of his hold, before screaming as he pulled all the way out and slammed back in. The sound of his body slapping against yours could barely be heard over your screams of pleasure and his grunts as he fucked you into the floor, ignoring the glass over the floor. His fingers tightened in your hair, pulling you further up, and you lost purchase on the floor, almost falling. His other arm slipped under your waist, his hand reaching up to sharply twist your nipples, and your orgasm hit with the full force of a freight train.

Dean was quick to follow, and you felt his cock swell and pulse, a second before his hot come coated your walls, his hips still smashing into your ass with every spurt. He kept moving for a few seconds after he was done, his grunts turning to gasps, before he finally pulled out, releasing his grip on your body and you tumbled to the carpet, face down, panting for everything you were worth.

You listened as he stood, walking away from you, sitting on the bed, before you managed to pull yourself up, inspecting the damage to your body from the glass. It wasn't as bad as you expected – there were some patches of blood on your knees and thighs, mingling with the come dripping down your legs.

'So you're not gonna tell them where I am?'

'You're not exactly gonna stick around, are you?' You replied, walking to the bathroom. He watched you leave the room, hesitating for a moment before following you. He found you picking glass from your skin, cleaning up the wounds and the mess between your legs.

'Need a hand?'

'This isn't a soap opera, Dean. I asked for it. You gave it. Simple as.' You smirked, dropping glass into the sink.

'Jus' offering.' He grumbled, before turning to inspect the damage on his back. You paused in what you were doing, admiring the curve of his naked ass, blood smeared over him. Damn, you'd never seen anything so sexy. 'But I might need some help cleaning this up.'

'Yeah. I guess you might.' You turned, washcloth in hand, and proceeded to remove the glass from him, before cleaning over the cuts. 'You know, this was fun. Most fun I've had in a long while.' You kept your voice low, not looking at him, although you knew he was grimacing at your words.

'Thought you said this wasn't a soap opera.' He watched in the mirror as you finished your job. 'And I don't do long term. Especially not with a demon.'

'And I told you, I'm not just a demon.' You grinned. 'Besides, long term ain't my thing either, _sweetheart_.' You threw his favourite nickname back at him. 'But, I might just leave you with my number in case you fancy a rough and tumble time like that again.' You dumped the washcloth in the sink. 'Or, you know, you could summon me.'

He blinked, standing in front of you, seemingly unaffected by the state of undress both of you were in. 'I didn't even ask your name.'

'Isn't that half the fun?' You turned, picking up your clothes on the way to the door, dressing somewhat sloppily. Dean remained in the bathroom, and a few moments later, you heard the shower turn on. Picking up the motel headed pad of paper by the door, you scribbled a quick note to dump on the bed, and slipped out, running through the lies you were about to tell Crowley.

Dean emerged from the shower thirty minutes later, looking around the trashed motel room with a tight look on his face. He knew you'd leave, and he was almost glad of it. Despite it being the first time he'd been able to let go for a long while. As he dressed, he noticed the note on the bed, picking it up with a frown on his face.

_Good time is a good time, Dean. I won't tell where you are. But if you need anything, just summon me._

_Name's Y/N by the way._

_Thanks for tonight._

 


End file.
